Visions and Visitations
by lauralizzie07
Summary: Update! Chapter two: Visitations. Hermione, post-Deathly Hallows. "Dreams are getting married in July or taking a bubble bath. Lucius Malfoy advancing on you, his eyes burning with hatred? That’s a nightmare." Written for my sister, Megg.
1. Visions

Visions and Visitations

Harry/Hermione, post-war. Spoilers for DH.  
Rated PG-13.  
Summary: Dreams are getting married in July or taking a bubble bath. Lucius Malfoy advancing on you, his eyes burning with hatred? That's a nightmare.

For Megg: my best friend, my partner in crime, my sister.

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**CHAPTER ONE: Visions**

**Vision (n): ****1. **The faculty or state of being able to see.  
**2. **An experience of seeing someone or something in a dream or trance, or as a supernatural apparition.

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Hermione used to forget that the war was over. At least twice a week she woke up, reaching for a wand that wasn't by her bed or a knife that wasn't resting under her pillow. For a split second she was terrified--dreading a blast of green light or a bellowed curse.

Harry didn't understand what was wrong. He tried, of course. He stroked Hermione's hair and whispered "shh" and "it's all right, pet, it was just a dream." But it wasn't all right and it wasn't just a dream. Dreams are when you come to class in your underwear or fail all your exams. Dreams are getting married in July or taking a bubble bath. Lucius Malfoy advancing on you, his eyes burning with hatred? That's a nightmare.

On the surface it seemed like it had been easy to pick up the pieces after the war. Harry proposed to Hermione six months after the final battle (she said yes six seconds after that). Ron harrumphed and stomped around until he got an owl from Luna Lovegood inquiring if he had been vaccinated against Jabberwockies. Ron said yes and took her out for tea and stopped glaring quite so much.

Molly and Arthur packed up Fred's things and sent them to George. Percy started dropping by the Burrow for dinner. Bill and Fleur announced they were having a baby. Ginny graduated from Hogwarts--her seventh year was rather uneventful, especially when compared to her sixth. She moved to France, intending to study language. Teddy Lupin was passed around from one Wizarding family to the next--in the absence of parents, he acquired an unseemly amount of uncles and aunts.

In the midst of it all, Hermione kept waking in a cold sweat, shaking with terror that she hadn't felt in a year. Harry suggested sleeping pills, but Hermione was afraid she wouldn't wake up. Ron lent her one of Luna's protective amulets, but Hermione purposefully forgot to take it home. Molly offered to read Hermione's tealeaves. The young witch tried to conceal a snort of contempt.

For the most part, Harry kept his mouth shut. He didn't make a fuss when Hermione wanted to keep her wand under her pillow and he let her set wards all over their tiny apartment. Harry bit his lip when Hermione speculated that her new officemate was a former Death Eater and he calmed her down when she came home from work convinced that she had been followed. One night, however, it became too much for him to bear.

"I saw him," Hermione wailed the instant she had Apparated into the apartment. "I saw him, Harry."

Harry tried to make out her words through her sobs, but all he could hear was "Malfoy."

"Malfoy? Don't worry, Hermione. Draco Malfoy is in Azkaban."

Hermione shook her head. "I saw Lucius."

Harry froze, "Lucius is dead, pet."

The witch glared at him. "I know that! I'm not an idiot, Harry. I swear, I saw him outside my office."

"That's impossible," Harry said flatly, pulling away. "You killed him yourself."

Hermione's words were so soft Harry almost missed them. "Maybe that's why he's back."

"Back from where? From Hell? Because that's where he ended up, I promise."

"What about my dreams? What if they were some kind of--" Hermione stopped, blushing.

Harry just smirked. "Prophesy?" The young witch didn't respond. "I never thought I'd see the day when Hermione Granger advocated Divination."

"Well if you're just going to make fun of me..." Hermione snapped, storming toward their bedroom.

Harry caught her arm. "I'm sorry," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He took a deep breath. "But, Hermione, please listen to yourself. Lucius Malfoy has been dead for a year."

"I know," Hermione's voice was quiet and sad. "I know."

Harry sighed and held her closer. "Are you okay?"

Hermione broke away, trying not to cry. "I'm fine," she whispered. Harry didn't believe her for a minute, but he knew better than to pry. He let her go, watching as she slowly walked into the bedroom. He tried not to flinch when the door shut with a harsh click.

Inside the bedroom, Hermione collapsed into herself. She shook violently, remembering the final battle. Lucius had separated her from the others, cornered her and waited, watching her like a hawk. Hermione knew that he wanted her to cry, scream, and panic. He wanted Hermione to beg for her life, but she would be damned if she cracked in front of Lucius Malfoy. With a calm Hermione had never felt--before or since--she raised her wand and cried _Avada Kedavra_. It was exactly the way she had imagined it in her darkest nightmares: the rush of green light, the thump of his falling body, the bile that rose in her throat. She sank to her knees, crying at the knowledge that she had killed a human. A terrible, evil man, but a man nonetheless.

The war changed everyone. George lost a twin; Teddy lost parents he barely knew. Harry lost his greatest nemesis (which wasn't a loss, not really); Ron lost his easy humor. Hermione lost her innocence. She could still remember Lucius' grin--frozen on his lifeless face.

That night, Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, hating Harry lying beside her in his easy, untroubled sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Lucius--Lucius waving his wand, Lucius killing her family, her friends, her fiancé. She saw Lucius laughing, saw piles of bodies, saw his lips twist into the imitation of a smile. "I told you I'd be back," he said, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Hermione screamed until Harry shook her awake.


	2. Visitations

Visions and Visitations  
Harry/Hermione, post-war. Spoilers for DH.  
Rated PG-13.  
Summary: Hermione wondered why the passersby didn't notice a blonde man carrying a cane, especially when he was shouting.

For Megg.

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Previously...

_Hermione saw Lucius laughing, saw piles of bodies, saw his lips twist into the imitation of a smile. "I told you I'd be back," he said, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Hermione screamed until Harry shook her awake._

_

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**CHAPTER TWO: Visitations**

**Visitation (n): ****1. **An official or formal visit; the appearance of a divine or supernatural being.

**2. **A disaster or difficulty regarded as a divine punishment.

**

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**

"Are you feeling okay?" Harry shoveled burnt eggs onto a plate and put them in front of Hermione.

"I'm fine," she said, but her voice was flat.

"You don't sound fine." Harry cracked two more eggs into the skillet and watched them sizzle.

"Well I am."

"You tossed and turned all night, pet."

"Don't burn the eggs."

"I won't," Harry said, turning down the heat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione pushed the plate away gently. "I'm going to be late for work."

Hermione had always been a quick learner. She memorized endless passages in her schoolbooks--spells, potions, magical theory. You name it; there was a place in Hermione's brain for it. Hermione had always been a quick learner, so she learned to stop talking about Lucius Malfoy. It worried Harry--she could tell from the way his mouth tightened when she said _that_ name--and Hermione didn't want to worry him. Hermione half-hoped that if she forgot the whole thing then she would never see Malfoy's face again. The only problem was that the more Hermione pretended not to see Lucius, the more he crossed her path. She caught glimpses of his hair--long and white--disappearing around a corner. He sat on park benches, lingered near shop windows, prowled outside the apartment she shared with Harry.

Lucius seemed to find it infinitely amusing when she ignored him. "Avoiding me again, Granger?" He would hiss in her ear as she ate lunch. "What a silly, Muggle thing to do--bury your head in the sand like an ostrich. I can't say I'm surprised," he called out as she stormed away, "that a Mudblood like you is adopting Muggle tendencies."

Hermione wondered why the passersby didn't notice a blonde man carrying a cane, especially when he was shouting. The worst part were the looks she got--Ron gave her sidelong glances, as though he was afraid that she'd collapse or scream or try to kill him. Harry treated her like she was made of glass and elbowed Ginny when the younger witch compulsively mentioned Lucius' name. Her co-workers treated her like an outcast--a crazy woman who saw ghosts. Maybe Hermione really was going crazy. Nothing really surprised her anymore.

She didn't tell Harry that she was seeing things. She didn't mention her dreams or the way Lucius' mocking words had seemed weirdly affectionate. And she sure as hell didn't tell him that while he worked late one night, Lucius appeared in her bedroom. Hermione was organizing her closet, giving her restless hands something useful to do, when the hackles rose on her neck.

"Miss me, Granger?" His words nearly gave her a heart attack.

"You're not here," Hermione whispered, closing her eyes. She prayed that when she opened them, Lucius would be gone.

"Nice try." His voice, flat and cold, made Hermione's stomach clench. She screwed her eyes shut, trying not to bolt when Lucius' hands closed around her shoulders. "I am here."

"Why?" Her throat was dry, her palms slick with nervous sweat.

"Because you fear it." He pressed his mouth against her neck and Hermione could feel him smile. "And because, deep beneath the fear, you want it."

Hermione jerked away, her heart hammering in her chest. "I don't--" she stammered, turning to face him again. "I would never--" Lucius advanced on her, hunting her the way a wolf hunts a rabbit.

Gently, tenderly, he laid a finger on Hermione's lips. She shuddered, but he just smiled. "Yes, you did," he corrected her. His eyes wrinkled with cold mirth as he gripped her chin firmly. "Your fear brought me back, but your desire gave me life." Hermione flinched, but Lucius tightened his hold on her jaw. "I just came to express my... _undying_ gratitude, if you'll excuse the expression."

"I hate you," she spat, venom dripping from her words. Lucius just laughed.

"Of course you hate me. I'd be worried if you didn't." Lucius considered her face, gripped so tightly in his hands. "Have you considered that your hatred is what fueled your desire?" Hermione's mouth dropped open. "I guess not." Lucius grinned humorlessly. "Hatred," he said slowly, as though she was still a schoolgirl, "and love are not so far apart as one might think. They're strong emotions, both of them. They each require a considerable amount of energy and they both have the power to drive men--and women--" he winked at her, "completely insane."

"I don't love you," Hermione whispered, feeling her stomach churn. "I love Harry. I always have."

"Ah yes, your ridiculous engagement. I thought Potter would go after the Weasley girl. One would think that the Boy Who Lived would have a sense of bloodlines, no matter how fouled those bloodlines may be." Hermione glared at him. "Come now, don't give me that face," Lucius said, releasing her chin from his grip. "Did you really expect me to say anything different?"

Hermione massaged her jaw. The skin was tender; she knew finger-shaped bruises would emerge tomorrow--proof of Lucius' manhandling. "I didn't expect you to say anything. I killed you, after all."

"Don't think I've forgotten," Lucius replied dryly.

Lucius disappeared as fast as he had arrived. Hermione, released from his strange spell, stumbled to the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet. She vomited over and over until the despicable memory of his touch subsided. She curled up on the floor, sobbing and hoped her heart would not, in spite of everything, truly break.

Harry found her asleep on the cold tile floor. She stirred as he gathered her into his arms and carried her to their bed. "Harry," she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Harry sounded amused. "You've been under a lot of stress." Gently tucking her into bed, Harry kissed her, smoothed her hair and shut the door softly. Hermione bit her lip to keep from calling him back. Sorry for what? For everything. For becoming a killer, for letting Lucius get to her like that. But most of all she was sorry because Lucius was right--she wanted him. And she had no idea what to do.


End file.
